Blue Bronson

Le Bleu Bronson for SF log enthusiast Erin, who convinced me to amend the Sandwich Club Charter to include a certain Outer Sunset bakery named after the Beastmaster that features perhaps the best breakfast sangie Team HHG has ever experienced.

Therefore, Sandwich Clubbers, the choice is now yours: a full sandwich card gets you either a ridiculously good Ike’s sandwich (no chips, for chrissake) up here in SoCo or, for you City shredders, an insane breakfast sandwich from ______________ (name withheld to preserve location’s reasonable line lengths), which is also endorsed by fine photographer and helmswoman of my Urban LadyShred team, Rebecca H.

Ladies always know where all the good breakfast eats are at!

Couplinches shy of 9ft, but designed to maximize the glide in typical Bronson style with more curves than a bucket of snakes.

Erin’s name means ‘Ireland,’ which is pretty fitting for a surfer—being surrounded by water and such.

Deep blue tint by Tony Mikus at Almar Glass Works in Santa Cruz. Polished by Tim the Polisher, who is a fine board builder, to boot.
That's the first time I've ever attached 'to boot' to a sentence--written or spoken.
Not convinced it works.

Blue Monday: of eggs and llamas

Much has happened in the last week, amigos. Team HHG has flown across the country and back with two kids under five and survived, Harry Potter has engaged in the usual epicness with You-Know-Who, and some stuff has gone down with Rupert Murdoch and his news agencies across The Pond that would be exciting if it weren't so damn boring.
And it's Blue Monday!
For those of you who are just joining, Blue Monday is when I fling wide the doors to my private email account, and also share the blue board of the week.
Like this 5'10 wetsanded egg.
On to the questions!
Dear HHG, yesterday a lady paddled out into the lineup, and a weird thing happened: everyone started to be nice to each other, when minutes before we were kinda being dicks. What's the deal?
E. Masculated in Marin

Mr. Masculated, yesterday you experienced 'civilization.' Although rare on the Northcoast, civilization can lead to increased sharing of waves, more smiles in the lineup, and a decrease in references to manparts. In much of the world we refer to this as 'value added.' You do have a few responsibilities, though. First, no staring. Second, you're going to have to start using a towel to change out of the wetsuit. That's the deal.
Back to the boardporn!
2+1, cedar stringer, and a pulled-in tail to keep things real in the pocket. Good for all-around beachbreak shredding.
Dear HHG,
In the last month I've noticed an increase in hobos in my local lineup--beards, flannel shirts, a general unwashed vibe. What's the deal?
NoHobo

NoHobo, unless there was a recent bum conference nearby, I think you're experiencing either of the following. 1. Hipsters or 2. Teachers on summer break. Both are harmless, and both can be placated with cheap canned beer.
Poplar rail fins--I love foiling these because they smell like vanilla. Seriously. Michel and crew glassed them on.
This week's final question comes from my two-year-old daughter, who wants to know what that llama is doing in the photo. I told her I have no idea, but that board is waaaaay too small for it. She agreed and then went outside to play with the hose.

War Pony Chronicles: Cars and Stripes

Aloha amigos, much going on up here NoTB. For starters, the recent south swell seemed to offer many things to many surfers—from glassy peelers to dredging sphincter bombs, depending on where, when, and whether or not there were any eyewitnesses. The Gulf of Alaska is quietly waking up, eyeing the California coastline lying next to him in bed, and thinking, “Let's do this.”
It’s been many moons since we’ve seen ‘overhead++’ on Surfline’s Northern California forecast (though not so many moons, perhaps, since Surfline overcalled a swell), so our fingers are crossed, our minds already selecting boards, breaks, and tidal conditions.
As if this isn’t enough—the bounty of Fall is indeed colossal!—the fourth annual Great Handcar Regatta takes place this Sunday, September 26th, from 10am until 6pm in Santa Rosa’s historic Railroad Square. In case you’ve been stuck on the 101 for a year, the Handcar Regatta is like a shot of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade dropped into a hot glass of Burning Man, then chased with a nose-clearing dose of what would happen if Federico Fellini and Tom Waits made a baby. Handmade and handpowered rail cars, unwholesome costumes, belly dancers, freaks on stilts, outmoded facial hair combinations, nipples, and more ass cleavage than a whole season of NASCAR.
This year’s theme is Magical India, whatever the hell that means.
Here’s a sample :


This turning of the seasons also requires a tuning of the quiver, and Dr. J’s new War Pony will take him through all of Autumn’s graces—from doily, bubblegum and lace southswell playthings to, stomach-churning, sawed-off, deep water discharges.
Plus, it’s got stripes.

Airing out the Inbox

Sophocles once quipped, “The true mark of a man lies in his email activity.” Amen. Modern social anthropologists, like yourselves, long ago forsook sifting through the garbage of humanity in search of answers, choosing instead to focus their lenses of scientific voyeurism onto more digital affairs. Is someone aligning themselves with terrorists? Check their email. Is there one amongst us who shops Amazon with Les Affaires abandon? It’s in the inbox. Do thoughts of adding girth to his flaccid schvantz occupy the lion’s share of your teenager’s time? I wouldn’t recommend it, but a quick AOL search would reveal the answer. You see, only email can fill in the blank spaces on the map our character.
That is why, under the banner of honesty and full disclosure, every third Tuesday I fling open the doors of the HHG inbox from the past few weeks. Onward into the unknown!

Dear HHG,
Is it possible my husband Paul ordered another board from you within the last month? I ask because there’s a blue longboard with double pinlines in the garage that I haven’t seen before. When I ask him about it, he just mumbles and points at our son. He's eight.
Thank you,
Paul’s Wife Who Is Saving Up For The Down Payment On A New House
Dear PWWISUPFTDPOANH,
Under the Shaper’s Disclosure Act of 1999, it is not compulsory for me to answer your query. However, I will say that as of last week, Paul is one step closer to a free sandwich*. Also, when he picked up something the other day (not saying what it was that he slipped into his new 9’6 board bag), he did mention how much he loved you, and how understanding you are. Maybe not in those exact words, but still.
*The HHGSC (HeadHighGlassySandwichClub) offers a free sandwich** from Traverso's, a Santa Rosa tradition for four generations, for customers who reach a certain number of board orders. In order to stave off a run on new orders, I won't give the exact number, though it's between five and seven.
**Sandwich includes one (non-alcoholic) drink, but no chips, as chips are ridiculous.
This may, or may not be your husband's new stick.

Dear HHG,
Is Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73 the best fall-related ode?
Yours in poetry,
Tina from Marina

Hi TfM,
No. It is clear Shakespeare never visited California during this most lovely of seasons when he penned, “when yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang/Upon those boughs which shake against the cold…”
Instead, let me recommend Keats’ To Autumn. At just 24 years old, he nailed it right from the opener: “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness…”
Huzzah!

HHG,
How do you know when you’re getting old?
Fondly,
Humbolt-er Every Day

HED,
Do you make strange noises when you sit down?
Do you ever wish your board were 2” thicker?
Have you ever opted out from a surf session to work in your vegetable garden?
Wait, that might just be me...

Dear HHG,
I’m thinking about relocating—does Sonoma County have good surf?
Sincerely,
California Dreamin’

Dear CD,
No, SoCo does not have good surf. Especially last week.
San Diego does, though!
What we do have is excellent wine. Let me recommend Trentadue’s Old Patch Red (2005). A 2008 Sonoma County Harvest Fair winner in Best of Class, and a steal at Bottle Barn right now for $9.99. The convenient screw top makes it even more appealing as a daily drinker.

And with that, I seal the HHG inbox for another month.
Don’t forget this Thursday’s Surf Movie Night at Santa Rosa’s Toad ‘n The Hole Pub in historic Railroad Square. This month’s feature is going to be solid. Festivities begin around darkish.

Blue Wednesday

I'm not a demanding husband. I know how this sounds--defensive, unscrupulous, smarmy. But it's true. I love my wife and want to see her wave-shredding skills showcased on the best board possible.
This is why certain measures were taken a few weeks ago. Measures that would usher her into a new realm of wave-riding delights. Measures that she might resist at first but, ultimately, be welcomed as liberating.
Measures that would ensure the retirement of her beloved 8'0.
Not her beloved 8'0
You see, my lovely wife is a God-awful surfboard customer. She has ordered an average of one board every 3.33 years in the ten years we have known each other. Not bad for the recreational surfer, but pitiable for someone married to a dude who spends 20+ hours a week up to his nipples in foam dust.
And none of her orders stick. Here's the rundown.
Board: 80's style swallowtail thruster.
Purpose: commissioned for trip to mainland Mexico.
Report: two sessions at El Rancho. Loved it. Sold it the day after we got back.
Source of Dissatisfaction: color was 'too green.'

Board: 8'0 mini longboard.
Purpose: to replace older 8'0 mini longboard (at shaper's insistence).
Report: who knows? Someone picking up another board from the house loved hers, so she sold it on the spot.
Source of Dissatisfaction: none. "He was nice," she said of the gentleman who bought it.

Board: Contemporary quad shortboard.
Purpose: to replace her long-sold 80's swallowtail thruster (see above).
Report: fun .
Source of Dissatisfaction: pregnancy.

This is why, several weeks ago, measures were taken. A board was shaped, then glassed. It was presented (gently!) to my loving wife after a Bud Light and a glass of local zinfandel (her favorite combo). It was received with a sigh and a certain flattening of the lips. These were interpreted as signs of success.
So far, so good.
It currently rests, unmolested, in the upstairs bedroom (we have limited surfboard storage space). Curing. Waiting. Avoiding inspection by two-year-old hands. Keeping a low profile.
We'll keep you posted.

Blue ???day

One of the joys of being a teacher in the summertime is not knowing what the hell day it is. Bite me, nine-to-fivers!
This week's Blue ???day board comes via Ocean Beach surf enthusiast Hardy Danger, fresh from his Mexican honeymoon.
Faithful HHG readers may recall Hardy's inappropriate wedding night antics from a previous Blue Monday post. Seems he's gotten himself out of the doghouse and back into our chilly waters.
Is Hardy Danger an employee of the state? Nope.
Is he at all affiliated with coastal rescue, OB beach patrol, or lifesaving in general? Nope.
How he stealthed these photos is best left to the imagination.
This we do know, though: those 101FinCo bamboo quads indicate superior taste. Looks like they save lives, too!